The Travelers
by DesperateHour
Summary: When five teenagers escape a fatal accident, they awaken in a land far from their own: Middle-Earth. The five, lost and separated from each other find love, belonging and home in Middle Earth. The only way to get back to their own realm is to find one another and rejoin, but that may not be so easy, especially when not all of them want to return. Legolas/OC OC/OC
1. prologue - the travel

Clara thought it was magic.

Luke thought it was fate.

Ashton thought it was science.

Silvia thought it was a nightmare.

Katherine? Well, Katherine didn't care what it was. The only thing she knew was this was her one and only chance to escape the old, boring life she dreaded. This was a gift from the greater gods, and nothing was going to take that away from her. This was her destiny, this is where she belonged.

But if she had to blame it on anything, she would blame it on the snow.

The night of the travel, the snow was thick, and blinding. Nobody had predicted the freak blizzard, but the destruction it must have caused was unimaginable. By the looks of the time on Clara's watch, dawn was just breaking, but the sun was hidden behind layers of angry clouds and an enormous wall of icy snow. Clara blinked, her icicle eyelashes blurred her vision, not that she could see very far in front of her anyways. The whole world was dark and chaotic.

Clara and four of her friends had been on their way back from a late night party, when they were forced to pull over due to the weather. Ashton's family minivan wasn't equipped to drive in any condition other than sun, and it was obvious Ashton was not going to risk it. Clara thought they were on a back road surrounded by woods but she couldn't be sure anymore, it had been hours since she'd last seen the road or the van. Her best friend Katherine and boyfriend, Luke had been the first two to leave the safety of the Ashton's car. When the battery died, and the temperature dropped Luke and Katherine weren't planning to sit around and freeze to death. They left to look for help, leaving Silvia, Ashton and Clara alone in the vehicle… That hadn't lasted long either.

Ashton and Silvia insisted on leaving, and Clara's weak objections were completely overlooked. All three ended up trampling into the forest to search for Katherine and Luke, fighting through the snow storm which made it almost impossible to see or move. But all that had been hours ago, now, Silvia and Ashton had gotten lost in the mess of woods and by a miracle, Clara had been lucky enough to stumble upon Katherine and Luke… or not so lucky.

Katherine and Luke hated each other. They had an ongoing feud that, despite Clara's many attempts, could not be broken. When Clara had found them, it was no different. Katherine and Luke were at each other's throats; yelling, screaming and angrily throwing sticks and rocks at one another. It would have been quite funny, if it weren't for the fear of dying out in the wilderness while her best friends tried to kill each other first. After a failed go at calming them down, Clara had settled down in the snow and tried to keep herself warm. It wasn't working, and the tears that fell froze before they reached the forest floor.

He wasn't being fair. Luke, that is.

Katherine had tried to explain to him a thousand times that she wasn't the one who ratted him out; she wasn't the one who ruined his life. She had gone months without knowing why Luke hated her so much, and tonight, he had finally told her. At the beginning of the semester, Luke had been caught smoking marijuana and partying during hockey season. Luke was an incredible hockey player, but after he was caught, he was cut from the team. Soon, he had found out somebody had ratted on him, and he thought that somebody was Katherine. It wasn't, obviously, Katherine didn't give a rat's ass about anything Luke did, including smoke. She was enraged at his accusations and frankly, after being his best friend for many years, she was furious that something like this had come between them. Neverless, the new found hate she had for him was relentless.

"It doesn't matter who did it!" Katherine screamed, "Especially if we're going to die out here, it doesn't matter who told the god damn coach!" She howled over the roar of the wind. Luke clenched and unclenched his fist, trying to keep his fingers from freezing. Neither of them could stay still for too long, trying to circulate their blood. Katherine didn't know for how much longer she could stay conscious, her feet had been numb for what felt like centuries and her mind seemed to be following quickly. She blinked constantly, wondering if it was possible to have your eyes frozen shut.

Luke managed a laugh, "Die? There you go again, overreacting. That's another thing I can't stand about you, Katherine, you're addicted to drama!" He insulted. His dirty blond hair was white, as snow overtook him completely. Katherine could only stare in awe, mostly at his stupidity. Overreacting? Where was his brilliant plan to save them? Did he think they could just stand out in below freezing weather, get suffocated by snow and then just drive home like planned? Silvia and Ashton were probably dead and gone, as it was!

Katherine opened her mouth to speak, but she was cut off.

"Kate, Luke…" It was Clara. Both Luke and Katherine turned to see the little lump in the snow. All you could see through the blinding downfall was two, bright blue eyes staring out of the darkness. They were gazing past Katherine and Luke, towards the other edge of the clearing… "What is that?" Clara whimpered.

Katherine turned. Her eyes widened. There, leaking out of darkness was a light. It wasn't overly bright, nor did it look like anything Katherine had ever seen before. It was sparkling, seeping out of the thick, fog like snow and luring them towards it. Katherine didn't have any time, or energy to stop and ponder her options. She started running, well, scrambling towards the light. Luke and Clara were at her heels, trying to crawl through the snow, desperately clawing at the fog.

The light was unreachable. Katherine crashed through the trees, flailing and urging herself to go faster. It kept getting farther and farther away, running from her as she pathetically chased after it. She couldn't let it go, it was the first sign of hope she'd seen in hours and she couldn't let it get away from her. "Stop!" She screamed, her voice was dry and her throat burned as she said the words. "Please! Help us! Please!"

A root grabbed at her ankle and she tumbled forward. She screeched into the emptiness, her cry being cut off as she prepared herself to hit the ground. She never did. The ground, the snowy, wet ground that was supposed to break her momentum, the inevitable end of her fall was stolen. She was falling. She was falling into darkness so deep she could not see the bottom. Even as she fell, she swore she heard a voice… a voice she did not recognize.

_"The ring has awoken"_Said the voice.

What could that possibly mean? Katherine did not have a moment to consider this, before all of her senses collapsed into unconsciousness.


	2. chapter one - dawn of the first day

It was warm.

That was all Clara needed to know, or cared to know. It was warm and she was happy, happy to alive, happy to be awake. She reached out to her sides, her fingers caressing soft fabrics; she curled her hands around the blankets and pulled them against her. It was a bed, a lovely, sun soaked bed. Her eyes were closed, but she felt the sun light beating against her lids. Her skin tingled with excitement, and comfort. She was free from the snow, the forest, the cold, the…

Clara's eyes surged open with panic, she screamed.

"Claerin?!" A pretty female voice whispered anxiously beside her. Clara bounded upright, sheets and blankets flying wildly about in her fluster. A sky light allowed sun to shine in through the ceiling and the room smelt like hay and grass. There was a warm breeze that flowed through the room, and Clara realized she had absolutely no idea where she was. The foreignness hit her like a brick wall, and her head swung to the side. She found herself looking at an unfamiliar face, a girl sitting upright in the bed next to her own.

The girl was beautiful. She had a long, wavy mess of blonde hair, hanging loose around delicate shoulders. She had crystal blue eyes that shone with genuine worry. She was looking straight at Clara, without any confusion, as if they had known each other their entire life.

"Claerin?" Clara breathed, "What…that's not my na- who are you?"

The girl laughed, "Eowyn, silly! What's gotten into you?" The girl, or Eowyn rather, dragged herself out of bed, landing softly on the floor and turning to pat down the layers of quilts. She was giggling to herself, and Clara had no idea why.

"Where am I?" Clara asked, gazing about the room. It was a simple room, with two little beds and a dresser for each. There was a small wooden door on the far wall, and the light from the hole in the ceiling was the only source of light in the room. Clara narrowed her eyes. There were no outlets, no phones, not even a lamp… there was no electricity at all. A new fear crept into Clara's thoughts.

"Did you have a nightmare again, sister? Well, no worries, you are home now in the safety of Rohan. Hurry, you must get up, we have to go check on the King… I pray for his health, it is failing quickly." Eowyn was oblivious to Clara's confusion. She was calling her by a different name, acting as if Clara were a different person completely… who was this girl? Where was Rohan? And why did Clara feel like she had just traveled hundreds of years back in time?

"Do you have a… um- mirror, erm, sister?" Clara croaked.

Without looking back at her, Eowyn continued about her business. "In the top drawer of your dresser, I came by it last night." She replied, casually.

Clara nodded, cautiously pushing the quilts back and prying herself out of bed. Her bare feet hit the wooden floor, and she tip toed towards the tall dresser at the end of her bed. She reached for the golden handle of the top drawer, and pulled it open. The mirror she found was little more than a shard of broken glass. Still, Clara was in no place to be picky.

Slowly, she lifted the mirror to catch her reflection.

Clara gasped; the shard slipped from her hand, hit the floor and shattered.

* * *

There was the world, as far as the eye could see. Laid out in front of them, forests and rivers touched the sky. It was beautiful, foreign, and completely bone chilling. This world was not their own, even the breaking dawn had a spark like no other. Ashton had never seen anything like it. It terrified him, but he could not take his eyes away. He let the breeze run over his skin, as he stood on the edge of the mountain side.

They had awoken in make shift sleeping bags, burrowed on the side of a great mountain. They had slept on rocks, under a little alcove that barely kept out the stars. It was magic; they had been transported to another dimension entirely. Him, Silvia and Luke were together at least, but that did little to improve the situation. The last thing Ashton remembers was Silvia clinging to him as he dragged them both towards the light in a wall of snow. The cold was still settled in his bones. That was last night, but now, in the early hours of morning, they were not trapped in a snow storm. They were somewhere very strange.

And they weren't alone.

There were others. Not humans. They were strange creatures. First, there were four little men, with big, hairy feet and wide, gentle eyes; two warriors with long swords and leather armor, who looked human enough. There was also a short, stout creature with beady, black eyes and an impossibly muscular build. The most terrifying of them all was the tall one, the one with snow white hair and clever looking eyes. He talked with a gentle tongue, but he moved with a terrifying grace. He had pointy ears, almost like an elf.

Finally, there was the wizard and what a sight he was. His name was Gandalf, but that is all they knew.

Ashton shivered, even under layers of leather fabrics; the cold chill of morning touched his skin. He looked behind him. Silvia was sitting on a rock, staring out over the mountain side and down towards the forest. She had a lost look in her eyes, her cheeks stained with tears. She had lost all of her energy in the breakdown she'd experienced not ten minutes past. Now, she was silent. She met Ashton's gaze, her eyes full of desperation. Ashton frowned, and looked away.

Luke was the most disturbed of the three. He sat with his legs dangling over the edge, a few meters away. He would not speak to either Ashton or Silvia, he would only whisper and curse to himself, trying to figure out a plan. This was the first time Ashton had ever seen Luke truly terrified. It was not a comforting thing to watch.

Fingers curled around Ashton's shoulder, "What's going to happen to us…?" Silvia breathed.

Ashton looked to her as she settled beside him. It was strange. Silvia would have never looked twice at him under normal circumstances, never bother speaking to him; she only cared about popularity and looks… Luke had both, which was why she was always chasing after him and not Ashton. Ashton couldn't help but enjoy the attention she had been giving him over the last few hours. He sighed, "I don't know, Sil"

"Are we going to be OK?" She asked, pressing the subject.

Ashton wished he could say yes.

* * *

They had changed.

Ashton and Silvia had changed. Sure, Silvia was still Silvia and Ashton was still Ashton, but there was something very different about them. It was not their voice, or their eyes, or their personalities… it was their bodies, the way they moved and stood and gazed out upon the valley. Silvia was draped in leather fabrics, weapons and blades dangling from her waist. She was shorter, sharper and much colder looking. Her face had molded into a stiff, sharp boned structure. Her hair was no long a fiery auburn, but a darker red, and her eyes too, had darkened. She was still bitter, still annoying, still complaining and obviously still Silvia, but the change was no less shocking.

Ashton's change was unimaginable. He was taller, slimmer and all of his imperfections had vanished. His cheek bones were unnaturally high, and his hair had gotten longer and sleeker. His lips were pinker, his skin was paler and his movements were long and graceful. His look was very similar to the snow haired man they had met when they woke earlier.

Luke wondered if he himself had changed too.

He stared down at his gloved hands. His new armor was almost completely crafted of leather, with the exception of a few metal clasps and iron pads. It was strangely weightless, falling carelessly across his newly toned body. Luke had already been well built but this new strength he gained was quite unnerving.

"What the fuck is happening…" Luke growled to himself, with no explanations in sight. His mind was twisting and swerving with chaotic ideas, still trying to process what had happened in the first place. Those worries occupied the majority of his mind, but one thought was slowly gaining dominance

Where was Clara?

And where was Katherine?

Katherine. He found himself thinking primarily of Katherine.

* * *

The eyes were deep. They rippled like water and sparked like flames. They told a story that none could read. She watched them move, flicker and look about with idleness. There was no emotion in those eyes, a cold, carelessness that chilled her to the bone. They were green like the forest, and black like the sea. She closed them, and let her new body mold to her mind.

They were her eyes. They were Katherine's eyes.

This was Katherine's body.

She reached out and touched the mirror. She let her long, elegant fingers trail down the cold glass. Her eyes followed, gazing about her new form. She was longer, leaner, stronger, faster… deadlier. She was beautiful, a dangerous beauty that made her mouth fall open in awe. Her cheekbones were high, her facial structure was sharp and clean. She was flawless and it scared her. She moved her wrist, and the muscles in her arms tensed and shifted. She tilted her head, letting her long, dark hair fall down over her shoulder. It was the color of stained wood, lighten in places and darkened in others. Half of it was braided, but the other half was a waterfall down to her waist. She narrowed her eyes, studying the light armor that was hanging effortlessly from her weightless skeleton. It was all fabric, no real heavy leathers or irons, it fit her like a glove but it was not as innocent as it looked. She had weapons, blades and daggers dangling from every inch of her body. She was a killer, a hunter, she was…

"Katleeniel?" A voice spoke from behind her, and Katherine looked up. She did not turn, only stared deeper into the reflection of the mirror.

King Thranduil stood in the archway, his eyes following hers. Katherine took a sharp intake of air and spun around, hesitantly, to face him. She drew taller in his presence, palling in comparison to the King of the Woodland Realm. "My King" She bowed.

He brushed her off, gesturing for her to stand, "Should you not be on the road? The White Lady has requested your presence… It is a farther travel than you may presume; the South is a very dangerous place." Thranduil spoke carefully, as if she was a broken, frightful animal. Katherine nodded quickly.

"Yes, of course" Katherine replied.

The King was not yet pleased. "Should you need accompaniment…? I would send Legolas but he is… occupied. Rather, I could send you with my finest guards, the finest soldiers of Mirkwood, I could-"

Katherine cut him off, "Do not fear for me" She whispered, and "I will be fine. This forest realm you speak of, where the White Lady dwells, what is it called?" She asked, recalling a past conversation they had earlier this morning when she had first awoken in this strange, foreign land.

King Thranduil nodded, "Lorien, the Forest Realm of Lothlorien"

Katherine took a breath, her fingers wrapping protectively around the bend of her finely crafted bow. Wooden, lifeless as it may be, she felt it leap and rumble at her touch. It reacted like an eager fighter, bubbling with power and excitement. It growled with hunger for the kill, it sparked a flame just under Katherine's skin, which burned into an inferno.

She smiled.


	3. chapter two - men of middle earth

Katherine struggled to control her loud breathing. She was panting, her back pressed against the tree trunk, her bow pulled close to her body with the string drawn. She dared a glance behind her, quickly regretting it. There were two of them, one more than Katherine had first thought. They looked strong and fierce, with their scarlet tunics and heavy bows. Their faces were covered with black cloth, all except for dark eyes that scanned the forests edge with suspicion. Katherine sighed inwardly. They did not look like friends of the Mirkwood elves, certainly not; they must have been part of the Evil Peoples with their dark skin and scarlet armor… the Haradrim of the South.

Katherine gritted her teeth. She had to get by them, but sneaking into an open field was not going to be simple. If worst came to worse, she would have to kill them and the more she pondered her plan, the more realistic killing them was. She could take one down easily, but the second would surely charge her… She felt the blades on her waist band grow heavier as she her mind flickered over the thought of close combat.

Katherine had been travelling all day, expertly unwinding the maze of the Mirkwood forest like she had done so a thousand times before. It must have been muscle memory, or perhaps a chamber unlocked in her mind, but for some reason, although everything looked, smelled and sounded foreign, it felt like home. She hoped fighting would come as naturally, and killing even more so.

She made up her mind, and in silence she spun out from around the tree trunk and targeted the first scarlet jacket. They hadn't even noticed her. Their backs were turned to the forest, to her, to their own death. They were oblivious. Katherine almost laughed; she felt joy and success seep over her even before she let the first arrow fly. Her excitement soon turned to blindness, and by the time she realized she had lost target, it was too late. The bow string released with a snap, and dread settled as Katherine realized she was not locked onto anything at all. The arrow flew right past the first enemy, right past the second…. She had missed.

Her heart leaped in fear, she reached back for another arrow, but her mind was racing chaotically. Her fingers were shaking as they clawed desperately towards her quiver. The Haradrim were not oblivious anymore, they turned to face her, surprised eyes quickly narrowing into rage.

Katherine had missed her chance, missed her shot; how could she have been so stupid? She wanted to turn and run back into the safety of darkness, back into the forest where she could call home…. But she could see the forest of Lorien on the horizon, it was so close, she was so close! She couldn't give up now, there were only two mortal men who stood between her and her target.

She swallowed. She was no mortal man, she an immortal. She was stronger, faster, smarter, and deadlier. She leapt into action, ripping two dual blades from her tunic and sprinting towards the scarlet blurs. They had their bows drawn, trying to target her as she jumped and swiveled in every direction. She heard the snap of the string, and dropped to the ground, the arrow missed by an inch. Katherine smiled.

She leveled into a crouch, grabbed an arrow, fastened it, aimed her bow, drew the string, adjusted to target and released.

The first scarlet man fell.

Success washed over her, absolute thrill of her first kill kicked into high gear. She felt pleasure and pain all at once, but she certainly did not have time to enjoy it. Another bow string snapped, and it wasn't hers, she threw herself to the right, blindly praying it was the right choice. It was. The arrow flew too far to the left, scrapping past her ear. The second scarlet man was running now, towards her as she tried to regain balance. He caught her at just the right time.

He swung, hard with a long sword aiming for her throat; luckily, Katherine had enough sense to raise her own blade to block him. The impact threw her backwards, and she sprawled across the ground again. Katherine's eyes lit in horror as she realized she was dealing with an experienced killer, and she had only read about fighting techniques online. Soon, she was on her feet just as the man released a second attack. This one, Katherine dodged quickly enough to duel out a counterattack. She blocked with one blade and jabbed the other towards his chest.

He caught her blade with his own, and flipped her backwards. She released a cry of pain but had enough time to kick out with her foot as she flipped around. She caught in him the shoulder and he too, fell back. They both landed on their feet.

The next part happened so quickly Katherine barely had a chance to react. He jump, in the air with his sword facing the ground and tried to shish kabob her. She avoided the blade, but his mass landed right on top of her, and she dropped to the ground. His knees dug into her forearms and even though she kicked and squirmed with all her might, his weight was too much to knock off. She felt cold iron press to her throat and her eyes flashed with fear. "No, please" She begged pathetically.

She had read the books, seen the movies… she knew begging for her life wasn't going to stop anyone, but instinct took over, this was all she had left. "I'll do anything" She pleaded.

The man laughed, "I should cut out your tongue before I tear out your heart, just so you can't annoy me with those pathetic whines."

Katherine was enraged, terrified and absolutely useless, but also unimaginably enraged. She squirmed again, as he took the blade away from her throat and positioned the tip right over her heart.

He smiled a sick smile, and then there was the sound of a sword breaking flesh.

His smile turned bloody; his eyes remained open, horrified, unfocused, lifeless. Red syrup leaked from the corner of his mouth, and his sword clattered to the ground. Katherine gasped, rolling out of the way as the man in the scarlet tunic fell forward and clattered to the ground. She stared at him in disbelief. Was he dead? Had he had just died, just rolled over and died… how was that poss-

A shadow lurked over Katherine, blocking out the sun. She looked up, her thoughts breaking off as she focused on the creature standing before her. She squinted. He was gorgeous, long golden hair tied back in numerous clips and braids. He had clever looking eyes and a spiteful smile. Who was he? Had he helped her? Had he saved her from the man in the scarlet tunic? He stood over her, offering her his hand. She stared at it, debating accepting the unneeded help, she was perfectly capable to stand on her own. Despite this, she reached up, letting him take her hand in his own and aiding her to stand. She swallowed.

"Thanks" Katherine muttered, resentfully. She felt the sting of loss melt over her as she thought about what would have happened if she hadn't been saved.

The man, who she now realized was from her own kind, an elf, smiled at her. "The Haradrim seem to be quite fascinated with the Elven woods, but it's their own loss" He purred, gesturing towards the two dead soldiers. Katherine nodded, saying nothing. She refused to meet the elf warrior's searching eyes.

"What business does a beautiful Mirkwood elf have outside the forest, anyways?" He asked.

Katherine set her jaw, her cheeks burning at the compliment. She was still more of a teenage girl then she liked to admit. "I have business in Lothlorien… with the White Lady…" She replied, honestly.

Suspicion cloaked the man's once mocking expression, "Who are you?" He asked, almost accusingly. His voice was low.

"Kath-Katleeniel" Katherine stuttered.

He suddenly smiled, "Oh yes, of course. Lady Galadriel is expecting you. Come with me" He turned and began to stalk away, leaving Katherine to trail about behind him. It wasn't three steps before he hesitated, and glanced back towards her, "I am called Haldir" He told her.

Katherine managed a crooked smile. Maybe she would follow this Haldir, he had saved her life after all and to be completely honest, she didn't know what else to do.

-

It was late afternoon by the time Clara finished grooming the horses in the Kings Stable. Her and Eowyn had run about the fields for most of the day, teased the little boys in the village and flirted shamelessly with the knights. Eowyn was lovely, she acted like a sister to Clara and her constant activities had taken Clara's mind off the trouble. Clara, still with little idea where she was or why she was here, tried her best to stay preoccupied.

She loved the horses. She loved their smell and their sounds and the way they nuzzled her palm for carrots. She smiled as she closed the stall door and waved goodbye to the littlest pony in the clan, his name was Thorn, but Clara called him Theo. She wiped her hands on her dirty gown and walked over to the well in the corner, pushing down on the pump and letting water poor into the trough.

Suddenly, Clara felt hands on her waist and breath on her neck. She gasped, throwing herself forward against the trough and barely containing a full throttle wail when she heard somebody shushing her from behind. "Claerin, Claerin… It's just me…" The voice was husky and seductive, and Clara found herself melting as the hands held her close against his form. She spun around in his grasp, her gaze flickering upwards to see a rough looking man. He was very handsome, his sly smile forcing heat to rise to her cheeks. She was mortified and uncomfortable being so close to this stranger, no matter how attractive.

"Who are you?" She whispered, trying to move away from him. There was nowhere to go, her back was against the trough and his solid form enclosed her from the front. She jittered awkwardly as his lips flickered against the bare skin on her shoulder. She pressed the palms of her hands against his chest, to keep him from getting any closer. Who was this man? Was he Claerin's lover? Was he her husband, or boyfriend, or nothing at all? She blinked nervously.

The man chuckled, his laugh vibrating through her body. It was a very charming laugh, and Clara swallowed a smile. "No time for games, my little bird… It is I, Eomer, and I do not have much time…" He told her, softly. Clara wanted him to step away from her, but all day she had been just going along with everything that was thrown her way, to avoid suspicion, this was no different.

"I'm busy…" She breathed, as he dipped his head to her neck. He kissed along her throat, and up her jaw line and Clara could not hold back a moan. She hadn't had anybody touch her or kiss her like this since Luke had and… Clara's eyes widened. Luke. Where was Luke? What would Luke think about this? Was he alive? Were any of them alive? These questions had been haunting her all day, but now they were weighing heavily.

And then he was kissing her. Eomer pressed his lips eagerly to her own, lifting her off her feet and onto the edge of the trough. She didn't kiss him back; as she was so shocked she could barely react. His hands traveled with experience and aggression, her body rocked and fluttered with a sudden excitement as she felt his hips grind softly against hers. The thrill scared her, the lust she felt bubbling in her veins scared her… She gasped against his lips, giving him the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth.

Her brain was spinning wildly; her skin was tingling with excitement. She was almost enjoying herself. "Claerin…" Eomer groaned. He pulled away, to her slight disappointment. "Theodred returns tonight" He muttered, rather resentfully. His voice took on a solemn tone and Clara failed to see the dread in the subject. She dragged her hand from his chest, up over his shoulder and slung her arm behind his head. Her fingers picked and plucked at his hair, and she tilted her head, watching him curiously.

Seduction played in her voice, "So?"

Eomer smiled, it was an honest smile and Clara could not help but smile in return. Whoever he was, she liked him very much. A short laugh tumbled from his lips and he kissed her again, softly, gently, lovingly. Clara shuttered as a shock rushed through her nerves. It wasn't love, or lust, but simply the sense of protection she felt washing over her for the first time in what felt like a very long one. Maybe it was this strange world that had her acting crazy, maybe it was a familiar sense she longed for and somehow received from Eomer. Neverless, she hoped he wouldn't leave her side.

"Do not say that, Claerin, you are lucky… but you and I, we cannot continue past tonight…" He admitted, sadly. His fingers speculated the fabric on her back, and she felt him pull the tie of her dress loose. Her eyes widened and she looked up at him with fright.

"Eomer…" She whispered, urgently.

His hands returned to her waist, and he guided her carefully backwards, along the wall and towards the small corner where they kept the hay for the horses. Her lips quivered, and she clawed at the back of his shirt, nervously. Clara felt numb and vulnerable as he gently laid her back in the hay, placing himself on top of her. She didn't resist him like she should have. He was a stranger to her, but to Claerin… he was a lover. I'm not Clara anymore, she remember, I am Claerin.

He configured through the knots on the back of her gown, making his way lower, peeling it off her as he went. Clara whimpered slightly, his aggression was overwhelming and she watched him with fear. Eomer stopped, his gaze switching to meet hers. His eyebrows furrowed with confusion, "Claerin, my love, I will not hurt you" He touched his lips to the spot under her collar bone and continued about her chest as he tore the fabric from her body. Clara closed her eyes, a sharp breath escaping her lips. For an odd reason, she trusted him.

"Be gentle…" Clara whispered, and this brought an even bigger smile to Eomer's lips. It urged him on and he eagerly removed his jacket, untying strings and loosening the waist of his jodhpurs. Clara reached up and trailed her fingers along the chainmail armor resting under his shoulder pads. "Who is Theodred?" She asked, out of the blue, the question beating inside her mind.

Eomer froze, his eyes flickering down to study her face. "Theodred… Yes Theodred... Eomer you foolish man… we can't do this" He breathed, suddenly. "I cannot take what is his to have" His face fell with sadness, "It cannot bear such dishonor"

Clara sat up quickly, pulling her gown up to cover herself again. She stared at him, eyes narrowed and eyebrows knit. "What? Why? Why did you stop! I was enjoying myself!" She hissed. Desperately, she leaned in to kiss him again. He dodged her lips, quickly adjusting his armor and retying his waist band. He frowned, turning away from her and standing.

"I must go to the great hall to find Eowyn. She has gone to care for the King, his health his failing very quickly and she has not slept for days. Would you like to join me?" He asked, quickly changing the subject, as if nothing had ever happened.

Clara pouted. "No. I'd like you to join me right here" She gestured to the spot beside her in the hay pile.

Eomer ignored her, again, "Would you like to join me?" He repeated the question.

Clara sighed in defeat, "No thank you, Wormtongue creeps me out" She grumbled.

Eomer growled to himself, just at the thought of Grima. "The way he looks at you and Eowyn disgusts me" Eomer spat, reaching out to run a hand down the neck of his great gelding Zoltar. "I really am sorry, Claerin…." He muttered, taking two short strides to the exit of the small stable. Clara watched him go, her mouth curled down in a heavy frown.

Just before Eomer left, he turned to look at her. "I love you" He said, before disappearing into the setting sun


	4. chapter three - traffic of unfamiliars

Hello readers!

My name is Rachel and I'd like to thank you all for just being here!

For all of my readers, I'd like to clear up the book-verse/movie-verse deal. Some ideas will be according to the book and some to the movie, because I'm trying to figure out what works best for my story and what will make the most sense, yet still be exciting so bare with me.

Also, to clarify, Eomer is _not _Claerin's brother! I know Eowyn called Clara her '_sister'_ in the first chapter, and I'll explain more later on, but just know that Eomer/Claerin is not incest.

Thank you all so much for reading, hopefully you enjoy the story so far!

* * *

"_Luke!"_ Silvia's screech evaporated in the howls of the great beast. It hissed and rumbled, throwing itself wildly from the water and easily flicking a poor, disoriented Luke off of the ledge and into the murky depths. The Watcher in the Water did not take mercy on any, whether they were from his own world or the next. Boromir and Aragorn slashed violently at the creature's limbs, desperately trying to release Frodo from its grasp. The Watcher would not seize, swinging the small Hobbit about as if he were weightless. Arrow after arrow flew through the air, Legolas' eyes were wide with terror, but his aim did not falter.

Silvia was beyond herself, even as Luke and Ashton leaped into action, aiding to free the Hobbit, Silvia remained on the shore, screaming hysterically. "What is that?" She wailed.

"Kraken!" Howled Ashton, slicing the air blindly with his sword, lucky if he hit the water at all. Luke was just dragging himself out from under the whirlpool that had formed when a deep yell came from the entrance.

"Into the mines!" Gandalf ordered, and into the mines they went. Neither Luke, Silvia nor Ashton needed to be told twice and without checking to see if Frodo had been rescued, they sprinted after the great wizard, into the mines and away from the creature in the water. No matter how terrifying the darkness of Moria may have seemed initially, none were complaining with the monster raging outside. Thankfully, all four Hobbits were accounted for and none were harmed in the battle. Silvia was hyperventilating, Luke was drenched and struggling to drag the extra weight over the uneven ground, Ashton, on the other hand, was perfectly able, nearly floating over the obstacles that approached them.

This was only the beginning, and Luke knew that very well.

It was Luke who had made the final decision. He had sworn his allegiance to this group of travelers, with no other options available. Silvia and Ashton had reluctantly followed, offering their own promises to the fellowship. Now, they were all sealed to a fate they did not want and with no experience or slight idea what was happening, they might as well be running about with their heads chopped off.

They ran in darkness for a very long time, far longer than any had run before. When they stopped, most had settled for a rest, they lit a fire and smoked their respective cigars. Silvia and Ashton were thankful for the break, but Luke was certain the break was only a consequence of Gandalf's uncertainty. The path had broken into two different directions, and Gandalf's memory had fallen short. They were most definitely lost and Luke did not like it.

The hobbits muttered about themselves, foolishness about food and some place called 'The Shire'. Luke had heard many things about the Shire already, many wonderful things that made him wish they were there, instead of here. Ashton, Silvia and himself sat far away from the rest, earning themselves suspicious looks from the others. They sat closer to Gandalf, able to hear his muttered words of confusion.

Ashton had his head in his hands, "This isn't fair… none of this, it's just not fair…" He complained. Luke was tired of the complaining.

"Shut up, Ashton. We did what we had to do" Luke growled, thumbing over the odd bread Aragorn had given them. Silvia had, surprisingly, ate it without hesitation. Funny, Luke had once thought her to be anorexic and here she was shoveling down some mysterious wafer. He didn't have enough energy to follow that thought any further.

Ashton made a noise, which could have either been a grunt or a sharp laugh, "You made the choice, and I hope you don't regret it"

Luke didn't feel like arguing, "_Me too_" He replied, bitterly.

After the short exchange of words, the three fell back into silence. They were listening to Gandalf and Frodo talk amongst themselves. They spoke of a creature named Gollum, a place called Barad Dur and many things of dungeons and power. Soon, Silvia's attention was drawn away again and she released a stifled whimper. She was staring into the darkness, over the depths of the mines… Luke followed her gaze. His eyes widened. If you looked close enough, and searched the blackness beyond, you could just make out a pair of glowing white eyes staring back at you.

Silvia nestled into Luke's side, but he didn't mind. He wrapped his arms around her, and held her protectively until the little white eyes blinked out. He swallowed, the eeriness had chilled him to the bone.

* * *

Katherine was amazed.

The forest palace of Caras Galadhon was the most magnificent sight she'd ever seen. The kingdom of Mirkwood had been beautiful, yes, but there was something so different about Lothlorien. It was something chilling, something electrifying… It was a power that rumbled in the trees and rippled across the floor below. It shifted in the air and made it light and easy around Katherine. There was none of this heaviness and solemnness she had experienced in Mirkwood, this was magic, pure, true magic.

Katherine hesitated at one of the waterfalls, despite her attempt to show Haldir she'd seen it all before. She had made a decision to act bored and experienced around the Lothlorien elf warrior, just has he had around her, but once inside this foreign realm, she had given up.

"You are captivated" Haldir said. It wasn't a question, though Katherine didn't see much point in stating the obvious. "Beautiful Katleeniel, we must venture further, the Queen is expecting you tonight." When Katherine ignored him, he continued. "It's not much further, her chambers is just through the next alcove. I assure you, you will have plenty of time to explore afterwards, and I believe this will be your home for the next while" He smiled, and Katherine turned sharply.

She looked confused, "Mirkwood is my home" She stated, protectively. Though she had to admit, a short stay in Lothlorien is nothing to be opposed to.

Haldir nodded, "Home is a very loose word sometimes. Your home is not your birthplace, nor where you live. It is not where you sleep, eat and bathe. Your home is, rather, where your heart settles and your mind rests easily. It is where your spirit swims to when it longs for comfort and recovery. Home is where you feel free, but safe both at once. This is my home, this is where I mold beyond compare to anywhere else. Is Mirkwood really your home, Katleeniel?"

Katherine starred at him, her eyes flickering with thought. Home. Earth. The United States of America. That was her home, or it was supposed to be. She was human. She wasn't an elf. She was supposed to feel safe, and free and happy in her own dimension, her own world. She didn't. She felt safe here, in Middle Earth, a world where every shadow is a threat and even the wind can be dangerous. She felt free here, confined in this small forest realm with the air lifting her off the ground. She was happy in this world. "Here" Katherine whispered, "and anywhere I might find myself here. This is my home."

"Lothlorien?" Haldir squinted.

Katherine shook her head, "No" She said, "Just here. In Middle-Earth. In the Shire, in Mirkwood, in Rohan, in the East, in the West, in the "North… I doubt I want to travel to the South but that too, is home." She took a deep, humble breath. Go on! I'm ready now. Show me Galadriel"

Thank god she'd read the stories. She wasn't in this world blind, at least she had some knowledge. She knew the geography, she knew her enemies, and she knew the language to some extent, though that had been sharpened in her mind when she woke. The most powerful part was, she knew the fate of many people living amongst her. She hadn't met the fellowship yet, and she didn't know how far she was in the timeline, but she could help! This could be her destiny, to save Middle Earth and the lives of many others. Katherine was giddy with excitement and power when she entered Galadriel's chamber.

Silence reigned heavily in this realm, but in the midst of Galadriel, silence enveloped your very soul. Katherine could barely hear her own heartbeat, air weighed heavily in her lungs, yet every breath she took was a soundless.

'_Do not fear me'_ Voiceless words flowed through Katherine's mind.

She could not see the White Lady. Her gaze traveled the room in a blind panic, but Galadriel was nowhere to be seen. But she could feel her. Katherine felt the Queen in her bones, in her mind, she knew Galadriel was near, where exactly was not of importance. She heard the door behind her open again, and shut. Haldir was gone.

"I am not scared" Katherine said aloud.

She felt a mocking smile, though she did not see one. _'You do not belong here' _the same soundless voice whispered. It was feathery and soft, but there was a power behind those words that hit Katherine square in the chest. Her breath hitched, and she exhaled shakily.

"I do" She objected for the second time. "I do belong here"

There a moment of hesitation, _'Maybe so,' _Galadriel emerged from the shadows, around from behind the pillar. Her gown trailed her quietly, barely scrapping the ground. She glided, instead of walked. Moved like she was pushing through water, the air around her was weightless, but it weighed down heavily on everything else. Power surged in the room, the lighten spark burned into an inferno. "But you have not yet proved your loyalty" She finished aloud.

Katherine stared in awe, but her mind was still functioning. She cleared her throat, "Loyalty to who?"

"Middle Earth" The White Lady replied sans hesitation.

"How so?" Katherine was beginning to sound defensive. She did not feel easy in the presence of Galadriel, she felt accused and threatened. The queen had come on strong, speaking to Katherine as if she had something to hide. Katherine had nothing to hide. How could she hide something, if she knew nothing at all?

"By saving her, by saving Middle Earth"

Katherine gawked, "What?"

Galadriel stepped forward, onto the first stair. She stood above Katherine, on a ledge at the front of the chamber. Katherine looked up at her, her expression dropping from defensive, to completely lost. Save Middle Earth? For all Katherine know, that wasn't her job.

"You are the wielder impossible power, Katherine" What? How did Galadriel know her real name? "You hold knowing far beyond the likes of anyone in this world. You are in possession of something I desire greatly…"

Then it clicked, Katherine narrowed her eyes, "You want to know the _fate of the ring_?"

Galadriel paused, starring at Katherine with a very contrasting content. "Yes" Galadriel whispered.

"How do you know I know? How do you know I hold this knowledge?" Katherine growled. Did Galadriel know about Tolkein? Did she understand that she herself was a figure of someone's imagination? Katherine sighed inwardly.

"I don't" Answered Galadriel, "I don't know who you are, or what you are. I don't know how you found this information, or where you came to find it… But I know that what you hold is the truth, you are the soul creature that knows the absolute future of the ring."

Katherine glared, "It should stay like that"

Galadriel shook her head, "There are more of you. Four, to be exact. One in the plains of Rohan, and three in the deepest depths of Moria… If they change the fate of the ring, I will never forgive myself. If, in fact, the future of the ring lies in the fiery pit of Mount Doom, nothing about their quest can change. No lies shall be saved, no battles avoided, no destruction relinquished. Everything must play out as it does in your mind this very moment. You know the future, and if we dare test the fates of tomorrow, we are sure to see our downfall."

Katherine understood every word, though she wished she hadn't. She was now a major pawn in this game, a major factor to the fate of the ring, but not in the way she had first thought. It was Katherine's job to ensure everything played out the way it is supposed to. She could not be the hero, she could not save Boromir, or Haldir, or try to make Frodo's journey easier. She must watch them all meet their own destructions, their own heartaches, their own excruciation… and if somehow they try to avoid it, she must send them back to face it. They must make all the same decisions, all the same movements and actions… She has four friends out in the world now that could very possibly destroy the future of Middle Earth… Katherine took a very deep breath.

"The Ring will be destroyed" Katherine said. "Frodo and Sam will enter Mount Doom, they will destroy the ring… But Galadriel, is there no easier way?"

"The fellowship will meet many trials?" She questioned.

"Yes"

"They will suffer?"

"Greatly"

"They will lose good men?"

Katherine closed her eyes, and nodded.

"Then that is how it shall be" Galadriel spoke sternly, but there was regret in her tone.

"But I could help them! I could figure out a way to make their journey softer, easier, and simpler!" Katherine tried to negotiate, but she knew it would be no use.

Galadriel frowned, "You have a kind heart, Lady Katherine, but you must understand why I am trusting you to their fate. It is of _paramount_ importance that you do not change the future, not even the smallest detail. It is _imperative_ that everything stays the same. If that involves _removing_ your fellows, then I will _not_ hesitate to do so."

Katherine's heart beat faster, "You mean _killing_ them? Killing _my friends_?" She gaped.

Galadriel nodded sheepishly, "If it is necessary…"

Katherine gritted her teeth, her breathing became shallow and her eyelids fell. "You can trust me" She told the Lady of the Wood, "I will not fail you" It was the truth. She would not fail her. Katherine wanted to impress her, prove herself to Middle Earth… She wanted to belong here, and she would do anything to show Galadriel she deserved a spot amongst the other elves.

This is what Katherine wanted more than anything, and Katherine _always _got what she wanted.

* * *

Clara hadn't realized she'd fallen asleep, until she woke.

She was still nestled in the hay, curled into a ball with her gown a mess about her. Her hair was dusty and tangled, and her eyes were blurred with sleep. She gazed about in a fog of exhaustion, glancing towards the doorway. The sky was on fire, red as blood over the sun and fading to muted pinks and yellows as the clouds swam aimlessly above. Clara dragged herself out of the hay pile, focusing on the silence that enveloped the stable. She blinked, stumbling outside.

Clara made her way to the Great Hall, the only place she knew to go. She climbed the stairs, picking up her dress as she did. She was still wandering about in a fog, when she heard the commotion within. She hesitated on the top step, lifting her head just in time to see the front doors crash open and three men tumble out into the thickening twilight. Clara gasped.

It was Eomer, being dragged out of the keep by two guards.

He was cursing, spitting and struggling, demanding them to release him. They didn't, and Clara found that odd. She thought Eomer held great authority, he had certainly acted like it back in the stable. Clara rushed over towards them, reaching out to grab one of the guard's arms. "Unhand him!" Clara ordered.

The guard spun about, and Clara thought for a moment he was going to hit her. The guard's eyes met Clara's and they widened with recognition. Clara kept her gaze stern and orderly, but the guard looked spooked and confused. He stuttered, "L-lady Claerin, we have orders from, uh, Wormtongue, to throw this man in the dungeons!"

Eomer looked up, his sights resting on Clara. For a moment he looked surprised, almost hopeful, but his head quickly fell in shame. "Grima? What right does he have?" Clara objected.

The other guard turned, this one was taller, older and far stricter. "The right of the King, he is chief advisor to King Theoden and-"

"I broke a law, Claerin, I must face my charge" Eomer growled, resentfully. Though he claimed to be guilty, there was still a fury in Eomer's eyes. Something was not right. Clara did not know much concerning Rohan, but something was certainly not right. She had to go speak to the King.

"Will you be alright?" Clara turned her attention to Eomer.

He did not look up, "Yes, my lady, do not worry"

And then they dragged him away, past Clara and disappearing down the steps. Clara took a deep breath, turning back towards the grand doors and surging towards them. She was caught before she could take more than two steps towards the throne room, Grima shoved her back outside before she could scream.

"Shhh" He hissed her ear, "The King is resting" His hand caressed her hair, his face disgustingly close to hers. Clara shoved him away and fought the urge to gag.

"You can't do this! You can't imprison him!" Clara howled, her hands were balled into fists and she felt tears welling in her eyes. She would have slapped him, or possibly pounded on his chest like an enraged little girl, but she didn't want to be anywhere near him. Laying a finger on him made her stomach churn.

Grima laughed, "I didn't do a thing… your King did." He hesitated, "With my advice, of course" A sick smile crept onto Wormtongue's face, his eyes a lit with slyness. A growl rumbled from Clara's throat, a sound she'd never made before, she bared her teeth like a hound.

"You're doing something to him!" Clara yelled, "You must be. Eowyn said he was sick, you're taking advantage of him!" This only made Grima laugh harder, as if he was about to choke on his own tongue. He was still cackling when Clara turned her back on him, frustration pulling the tears from her eyes. They rolled down her cheek as Clara flew down the steps, the wind whipping her face. She ran towards the stables, only slowing when her lungs started to burn.

She had almost reached the first lean-to when a screech pierced the night's still air.

Clara stopped dead, her head swivelling around. It wasn't long before the scream was followed by another one, of the same voice. A chill crept under Clara's skin when recognition hit, her eyes widened and the urgency hit her square in the chest.

_It was Eowyn._


	5. chapter four - hunt of knowings

And then she was running.

Her arms flailing out beside her as she leaped down the stairs, over troughs and fences, stumbling down little hills towards the Northern gate. Eowyn's cries were growing louder, yet softer as screams faded into sobs. Clara spotted a crowd of riders hovering near the Northern gate, standing beside their mounts and looking sheepishly at the ground. All were still, solemn and swarming the area just inside the gate. Clara could not see what they were so fascinated with, but her hearth beat faster in her chest. She sprinted down the last hill, nearly falling several times before hitting the crowd. She shoved past them with little politeness, "Move it" She growled. Some of the horses spooked, but the men were not much put out with her aggression. They moved out of her way without a single complaint.

Clara stumbled into the middle of their circle, catching herself before tumbling forward. Her gaze crossed Eowyn, who was crumpled on the ground beside a limp body, Eowyn's eyes red and full of tears. Clara could feel the heartbreak, she could see the agony in the clear blue eyes staring back at her. Clara's sights skipped to the lifeless figure lying beside Eowyn. It was a soldier. Just an ordinary Rohirrim soldier. He did not look much different than the other knights Clara had seen. His eyes were closed, his armor was stained red and there was dried blood on his leather shoulder pads. Clara grimaced, but did not think much of him.

She stepped forward, cautiously.

"Eowyn, dear sister of Rohan, I am sorry" It was all Clara thought to say.

Eowyn blinked, squinting to see Clara through her tears. When recognition flashed in her eyes, her face distorted with horror. "Oh, Claerin!" She wailed, a new fit of sobs washed over her, "I am so sorry, I am so sorry!" Eowyn gasped out, breathlessly.

Clara looked confused, why should Eowyn be sorry? Clara was barely stirred, it was Eowyn who had fallen into misery. Clara shifted forward again, resting a hand on Eowyn's back and touching the cheek of the dead soldier. His skin was icy cold, Clara shivered. "Who is this man?" She asked, curiously.

The silence that was already thick enough to cut with a knife, fell deeper. Confusion bubbled across the surviving riders and uneasy tension settled beneath Clara's skin as dozens of judgmental stares weighed down upon her. She studied the crowd, questionably, but they did nothing but stare.

Eowyn had grown quiet, her eyebrows knitting with confusion, almost forcing the sadness from her eyes. "This is Theodred, Claerin" She whispered.

And then before Clara could reply, "This is the heir to the Rohirrim throne, this is Prince of Rohan as you are the Princess… This is your husband, Claerin"

"This is your Theodred"

Clara's heart stilled. _What._

* * *

"Raise your elbow," Instructed Haldir, "and stop squinting! I can only hope your aim is better than your horrible form"

Katherine almost laughed. She didn't know how hideous her form was, but she doubted her aim was any better. Despite this, she lifted her elbow, widened her gaze and followed instructions as they were barked. The elven woods burned blue in the fading twilight, the sun was long fallen under the horizon but Katherine did not long for sleep as she should. She hadn't slept in what felt like years, and yet exhaustion kept distance. Her new body worked like a machine.

"What am I shooting at?" Katherine asked, it seemed like a fairly relevant question. Haldir didn't seem to think so. Even with her added height, Haldir still looked down upon her under his nose. This was especially useful when he gave her one of his undermining glowers, like the one he offered her now.

He grunted, "Anything with a heartbeat"

Katherine smirked.

With a speed that nearly frightened her, Katherine whipped around. Her string was drawn, and the razor point of her arrowhead broke the fabric of Haldir's tunic, directly over his heart. To her, the woods were swimming in silence and Haldir's horrified eyes brought a charmed smile to her lips. To Haldir, the woods were not quiet, the trees were laughing at him, mockingly thrilled at his vulnerability. "Was that a trick question?" Katherine hissed.

Haldir looked from the arrow, to the she-elf wielding the bow. He looked upon her with distaste, "Clever creature that tongue will get you killed…" There was no warning before Haldir struck, a flash of silver emerging from his waist band and cutting past Katherine's left side. The next moment, Katherine was pinned against the nearest tree, a blade to her throat and rhythmical breathing beating through her skeleton. A low chuckle rained down her from above, "You are lucky I am not your enemy, Katleeniel of Mirkwood"

Kathrine's frustration bubbled viciously, her face was burning red with embarrassment. She slid out from between Haldir's body and the tree trunk. She danced over the forest floor, stepping blindly over roots and maneuvering away through the thick wood. Her bow hung carelessly in her grasp, "You take me for a fool" She told Haldir, without turning to him.

"You _are_ a fool" He did not hesitate to insult her.

It was at this time that Katherine stopped, she turned back to face Haldir. He was watching her, with fierce judgement and disapproval. Yet, Katherine saw something different, there was a sparkle of sharpness and bitter sweet glow in his eyes. _It was jealously_. "I do not know what the queen desires from you so desperately," Haldir told her, "I do not understand what she sees in you, or why she has insisted you must remain in _my _woods. I do not trust you, venomous she-elf and if you confirm my suspicions, you will not leave this forest alive"

Katherine pondered the threat, her gaze biting into his own with strong dominance. He did not like it, not one bit. He glared her down like vermin, like a fatal enemy looming under his roof. Katherine's eyes diverted to the canopy overhead, searching for the moon that left streams of light cascading into the blue woods. She supposed she _was_ an invader in his domain, but she would not let her defeat show on her face. "Your possession over this forest is rather… naïve, considering you are but one of its many protectors. This is the Queen's wood."

Katherine spun around and stormed away.

"Where are you going?" Haldir called, suspicion resting heavily in his tone.

"The River Nimrodel" Katherine answered, thoughtlessly.

There was hesitation, but Katherine continued surging forward, leaving Haldir's voice fading to a whisper in the background. "You don't where it is!" Haldir howled, loudly. Katherine thought he might pursue her, and she definitely did wish to bear his company any longer. Instead of turning, she laughed. It was a dry, humorless laugh and she found herself quite familiar to the falsehood of the sound.

"I know very many things, Haldir, though I wish not frighten you with my knowledge"

Her voice faded into a whisper as Katleeniel of Mirkwood slunk into the silence of Lothlorien.


	6. chapter five - escape of darkness

_T'was the day of the brightness, when all through the fellowship not a creature was stirring, not even the dwarf. The long swords were hung at hips and in hands, in hopes no more danger would come without plan. The hobbits were nestled, refusing to be lead while visions of fire danced in their head._

Silvia stumbled out of the cave, shoved into the blinding light by Aragorn. Ashton caught her as she fell forward, or perhaps it was Legolas, she could not see to tell. Her eyes were squeezed shut and soundless screams came rolling off her tongue. After four days (_an eternity_) of darkness, the daylight brought only suffering. When she finally dared to open her eyes, all she could see was fire.

She saw fire in its purest form, burning constantly in a pair glowing red eyes. There was a howling, a screeching ringing in her ears. The pressure was unbearable, the scene rolled out in front of her. A flaming whip danced through the air, slapping against the walls with vengeance. The demonic hell creature roared as it tumbled into darkness, its last desperate attack bringing the brave old wizard down with it. Silvia blinked. Her vision cleared to blue skies, a rising sun and a fresh breeze rolling over the mountain side. She gasped, hysterically forcing air into her lungs, her knees gave way. Legolas bowed down with her, his arms wrapped around her torso as she collapsed. He whispered encouraging words in her ear, gently wiping tears off her cheeks. Silvia whimpered, shock was rattling through her bones.

For a moment, Silvia felt selfish. She was not grieving the death of the beloved wizard, as everyone else was, she had no care for the old man. Silvia was crying because reality had finally hit her. _She was scared_. She was absolutely _terrified_ of this realm she was trapped in. She wanted to go home, she wanted to sleep in her own bed, she wanted to take a shower and she wanted so badly to see her family… Silvia lifted her head, blinking through the tears and staring up at the beautiful Elven boy who tried to comfort her. So lovely, so gentle, so foreign, but he was all she had. Silvia squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her face into his shoulder, clinging to the fabric of his tunic for sanity.

* * *

This was a _mad_ world.

This was no world like the one Luke had ever known. It was dangerous, inhuman and horribly unnatural. In the last four days, Luke had joined a fellowship of dangerous warriors, been chased by goblins, attacked by a cave troll, mourned an unknown dwarf lord, stalked by a mentally ill alien, and witnessed a demon from the deepest depths of hell murder their guide.

Now, he clung to his blade as if it were a long lost friend. This sword he had only just learned to swing had become the only thing he knew to trust. Luke stared out over the mountain side. The hobbits were in absolute despair. They were huddled on the ground, sobbing and wailing. Miserably, Aragorn tried to usher them along, to pull them from their agony. _He failed_. Boromir spoke in their defense, and an argument broke out between the men. Legolas was bent over Silvia, attempting to calm her. Luke gritted his teeth protectively, but quickly turned his attention to Ashton. He blinked.

Ashton was_ crying_.

Luke had _never_ seen Ashton cry before.

Doubtfully, Luke moved towards Ashton, who was standing off to the side. Silent tears rolled down Ashton's cheeks, and if it were not enough Luke had never seen Ashton shed a tear in his human state, it was even stranger to see his best friend crying from eyes that were not his own. Awkwardly, Luke halted in front of his new elven brother. "Ashton,_ it's OK_…" Luke muttered.

Ashton's head whipped upwards, he glowered at Luke. "It's _not_ OK, Luke. None of this is OK." He snapped.

Luke frowned, hardly taken aback. "I know, man, I know… I'll find a way to get us out of here, I'll find a way to get home, just hang in there…"

There was a short period of confusion. Ashton's face distorted with worry and slight disappointment, "What are you talking about, Luke? We _can't_ go home. That's not why I am upset."

Luke's breath caught in his chest, "What are you talking about?"

Ashton shook his head, "You don't get it, Luke. You haven't been listening to them the way I have. You and Silvia were so preoccupied with yourselves, you didn't bother to listen to _them_." He gestured to the group before them, "This is the Fellowship of the Ring, and they're on this big, important quest to destroy that ring Frodo has! Frodo, he's the black haired hobbit. If he doesn't destroy the ring, it will destroy them. Gandalf, he was the wizard, he was crucial to this plot… But now he's gone, and yeah, I'm upset because that fucking sucks! Not for us, Luke, this isn't our world… for them! You haven't listened to Frodo, he's a wreck and now that Gandalf's gone… We _need_ to stay, we need to help them" Ashton's fingers curled into a fist, and Luke watched in horror as determination glowed in his friend's eyes.

Luke stepped forward, his face dangerously close to Ashton's. "You're crazy, Ash" Luke hissed, trying to keep his voice low. "We can't stay here. I'm sorry about your friends, but this isn't our fight. This isn't _my_ problem" Luke couldn't possibly understand why Ashton felt so obligated to this quest. This had nothing to do with them.

"We're stuck here" Ashton hissed, and roughly, he shoved Luke away from him. "You can't change that. You can sit around and whine if you want to, but I'm not. I'm going to help them"

Luke scoffed, "You don't even know where '_here_' is, Ashton!"

Ashton looked his friend square in the eye, "Yes, I do"

Luke shut his mouth, immediate confusion flickering in his gaze. Ashton continued, "Do you remember those books Katherine was always reading?" The mention of Katherine's name made Luke's heart feel heavy and his breath grow short. "Yeah, well, I have a theory. Remember all those maps she had in her room? All those stories she told us of cities and ruins in her fantasy world? Well, I remember. Luke, this is that place! This is _Middle Earth_!"

Luke blinked. "What are you trying to say?"

Ashton shook his head wildly, as if Luke should have understood by now. "We _need_ to find her, Luke! We need to find Katherine! She'll know what to do"

A spark of jealously rose in Luke's chest, "_I_ know what to do" He growled, "We don't need Katherine." No matter how much he wanted to have Katherine near, no matter how much he wanted to see her and touch her and hold her in his arms, he knew she would only threaten his leadership. "I can handle this"

Ashton managed a sharp laugh, "This is no time for your stupid grudge, Luke. You know as well as I do that we _are not_ getting any further without Katherine."

Luke didn't want to admit defeat. He stared his friend down, trying to come up with something clever to say in return. Nothing came to mind, and before he could close the conversation, a timid voice spoke from behind him. "Stop arguing_, please_, I can't deal with it right now"

Luke turned, it was Silvia. He sighed. She looked terrible. He had never seen Silvia look terrible. The tall, confident, gorgeous girl was no more. She wasn't done up like a Barbie doll, she looked like she'd just been dragged through hell. Her eyes were glossy and sad, blood and tears strained her skin and exhaustion had marked dark circles above her cheek bones. Wearily, Silvia tried her best to fake a pout, but she was too drained to bother scolding them.

Luke frowned. He reached out and touched her dirty auburn curls, cupping her face with his hand. He felt bad for her. "I'm sorry, Sil" He murmured, trying to avoid looking directly in her eyes. She had frighten eyes, the kind of constant fear that sent chills rattling through your bones.

Ashton breathed in, "We're just stressed out, Silvia. Everything is going to be OK"

Apparently, Silvia had enough energy left to conjure up a bitter glare and shoot it at Ashton. "I wish you would stop saying that. Everything is _not_ OK"

Ashton and Luke exchanged a glance. They'd been tip toeing around Silvia since this started. Over the last four days they had treated her as if she were a naïve child, trying to keep her hidden away from the dangers this world had to offer. She obviously wasn't buying it. "We have a plan, Sil. We're going to make everything work out. We just need to find Katherine" Luke told her.

Silvia's eyes softened, "Katherine?" She breathed, gently.

They both nodded.

A genuine smile curled onto Silvia's face. "_I miss her_" She admitted.

Luke blinked. Silvia _hated_ Katherine. Katherine hated Silvia. It was a law of the universe. They were mortal enemies, they hated everything about one another. Luke had the unfortunate privilege of being friends with both of them, listening to the insults and rants constantly aimed at one another. Now Silvia was trying to say she _missed _Katherine? He said nothing.

"Silvia," Ashton started, in that nervous voice he tended to use around her. Ashton had always been in love with Silvia. "You don't _even like_ Katherine"

Silvia looked him over, her eyes narrowing with speculation. "All I know is Katherine would have done something by now. She wouldn't have just '_went along with it'_ like you fools decided to do." Timid and broken Silvia evaporated. Luke nearly sighed in relief.

"Clara, too" Ashton piped up, "We still have no clue where Clara is"

_Clara_. Luke kept forgetting about his girlfriend. Clara was never very strong. If she had gone through half of what Luke, Ashton and Silvia had just experienced, he doubted she was still alive. Alone, too. Clara was alone. Unless she and Katherine were together… He blinked away his thoughts.

"_Syllyra_" a voice called from ahead.

Luke and Ashton glanced upwards, and Silvia turned. It was Legolas. Syllyra is what he called Silvia. Luke hated it. "We are leaving." He regarded Luke and Ashton coldly, "Come along"

Silvia managed a gentle laugh. "I think he likes me" She giggled, sheepishly. She sounded like a school girl, giddy at the attention from her crush. Luke rolled his eyes, and for the first time, sheathed his sword.

"Don't get too excited, Sil. We have pet names too" Luke told her, a bare smile creeping across his face. It was true. When Gandalf had addressed Luke, back in the mines, he called him Lucifor. Luke did not like the change in titles, he tried to argue it. Gandalf had ignored him. Ashton had been called Asenmir.

Syllyra, Lucifor and Asenmir. As the three trailed the slow moving fellowship, towards the safety of the wood below, Luke thought about those names. He thought about who he was and who he had became. He pondered on what Ashton had said and admired how Silvia had changed. He purposefully pushed Katherine to the back of his mind, because thinking of her only troubled him more, hurt him too much. Mostly, He longed for Clara, for her touch and her kiss. He wanted to protect her and tell her it was going to be OK.

Even though he didn't believe it himself.

* * *

Katherine did not hear the approaching footsteps, though she doubted there were any at all. She was so enchanted with the water. The way it fell gracelessly into the small pool, stilled and then rocked back into the flow of the river, she had never seen anything so tranquil. Galadriel watched as well, fascinated solely by Katherine's intensity.

"This river is very old" The White Lady said.

Katherine nodded.

"It weaves into the deepest depths of this forest, lost within the maze of the realm. It is always found though," Galadriel paused, "which is strange."

Again, Katherine nodded. "How so?" She questioned, idly.

Galadriel frowned, "Because they never found Nimrodel. She wandered too far with so much to lose, and in the end, she lost it all."

Katherine looked up, suddenly intrigued. "Where did she go?"

"There is a song" Said Galadriel, "would you like to hear it, child?"

Katherine nodded.

And so she sang:

"_An Elven-maid there was of old,  
A shining star by day:  
Her mantle white was hemmed with gold,  
Her shoes of silver-grey._

A star was bound upon her brows,  
A light was on her hair  
As sun upon the golden boughs  
In Lórien the fair.

Her hair was long, her limbs were white,  
And fair she was and free;  
And in the wind she went as light  
As leaf of linden-tree.

Beside the falls of Nimrodel,  
By water clear and cool,  
Her voice as falling silver fell  
Into the shining pool.

Where now she wanders none can tell,  
In sunlight or in shade;  
For lost of yore was Nimrodel  
And in the mountains strayed.

The elven-ship in haven grey  
Beneath the mountain-lee  
Awaited her for many a day  
Beside the roaring sea.

A wind by night in Northern lands  
Arose, and loud it cried,  
And drove the ship from elven-strands  
Across the streaming tide.

When dawn came dim the land was lost,  
The mountains sinking grey  
Beyond the heaving waves that tossed  
Their plumes of blinding spray.

Amroth beheld the fading shore  
Now low beyond the swell,  
And cursed the faithless ship that bore  
Him far from Nimrodel.

Of old he was an Elven-king,  
A lord of tree and glen,  
When golden were the boughs in spring  
In fair Lothlórien.

From helm to sea they saw him leap,  
As arrow from the string,  
And dive into water deep,  
As mew upon the wing.

The wind was in his flowing hair,  
The foam about him shone;  
Afar they saw him strong and fair  
Go riding like a swan.

But from the West has come no word,  
And on the Hither Shore  
No tidings Elven-folk have heard  
Of Amroth evermore."

Katherine watched the water. Her eyes never leaving the silver rapids sinking deep into the shinning pool. She listened, quietly, taking in the lyrics and writing a story of her own. She did not look at Galadriel, even after the song had silenced. There was a sad beauty that hung in the air, and Katherine did not dare dirty it.

Eventually, though, she spoke, "_I can hear her_" Katherine said.

Galadriel blinked, "Who?"

"The Eleven Maiden, _Nimrodel_. She is wordless, yet I can hear her voice" Katherine answered, longingly. "I do not think she is lost anymore, I think she is safe now" She sighed, her gaze flickering upwards to meet Galadriel's. She forced a small smile, but it was quickly hidden by falling tears. Galadriel swooped to her knees at the first sign of unhappiness, and touched Katherine's cheeks.

"Dear child, what troubles you?"

Katherine swallowed, sniffling quietly "Were there others?"

Galadriel stared at her, a momentary confusion settling in her eyes. It was vague question, though not one that much surprised her. _The poor girl,_ thought Galadriel, _so lost, worried, confused and here I have pressed such important matters onto her. _"_Yes_" She answered, gently. There was guilt in her voice. "A very long time ago"

Katherine's eyes pleaded her to go on.

Galadriel sighed, "Many years ago, before Sauron's return was certain, there was a boy. He was always listening. Quietly, surely, always there. He recorded every word, every tall tale, every name and place. Younger than yourself, yet he was very wise. He held your same knowledge, he was the keeper of memories and foreteller of futures. He learned our languages. I taught him our lore. I only wish I could remember what they called him."

Katherine listened, curiosity was lingering in her eyes. She wondered what happened to this boy, where he went, if he ever got back to his own world. She sighed, lost in the story of the past. She did not know much of the past. She only knew of the future because of the books… _The books_! Katherine hadn't thought much of the books until now. The stories must have been written by someone who _knew _Middle-Earth, who knew the languages and histories_. _Someone who had lived it themselves, someone who inhabited this land like it was their own._ Tolkien_.

Galadriel was speaking through Katherine's thoughts, "He asked constant questions, never demanding, and only asking. He was so intrigued by these woods, he preferred them over all the rest. Rohan, next. Then perhaps Bree, which he found exciting by the culture. Gondor, though, he never quite liked." Galadriel studied Katherine for a moment, "He was a man, but he was… _simpler_."

Katherine blinked, "_John_" she said.

Galadriel smiled, "Yes! John! John-"

"Tolkien" Katherine clarified.

Galadriel nodded. "He wanted to be called _Ronald_, which is what his mother called him." She told Katherine, the memories flooding in. "_Edith_, yes, that's it, her name was Edith"

Katherine tilted her head, "Who?"

Galadriel offered a small laugh, "His silly lover. He told me of her, once. It was the only story he ever told of himself. He loved her so fiercely, and yet forbidden from her hand. He once said…" Her words fell into a whisper, "He told me I reminded him of her" Katherine could have sworn the elf queen delved into a blush.

"Galadriel," Katherine began, shakily "I don't think you understand. My powers, or my knowledge, it's not just something I _know. _Tolkien, or Ronald, well, he wrote these books. He had all of these stories, and I read them…"

Galadriel narrowed her eyes, "Stories of the future?"

Katherine nodded, "I guess so. You see, he came back to my world. He wrote these novels, he predicted the future and so far, it's all coming true! Frodo, the fellowship, the war, Mordor… He was right about it all. That's how I know all these things, all of these stories, I do not have any special power, I only had him …"

Galadriel watched her for a moment, suspicion resting uneasily in her stare. Katherine's heart leapt away from her, everything that had once been so certain had fallen into the unknown. Katherine hated that feeling. She felt no longer important in this world, and it scared her. This was Tolkien's story, Tolkien's future and here it was, playing out just as he wrote. Galadriel took a moment to ponder Katherine's words before her gaze softened, "_I trust him_" She whispered.

Katherine smiled, "_Me too_"

Name pronunciations:

Silvia | Syllyra (Sill – Lie – Rah)

Katherine | Katleeniel (Cat – Lee – Nee – Elle)

Clara | Claerin (Kl – Are - In)

Ashton | Asenmir (As – In – Meer)

Luke | Lucifor (Lou – See – For)


End file.
